


in the aftermath

by ashmes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bayard Switch, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Season 3 Spoilers, touching on lance's insecurities a little... rip lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashmes/pseuds/ashmes
Summary: “Ohcome on, Red,” Lance teases, the huff of laughter barely hidden under the surface. “That was a good line and you know it.”“You always flirt with the lions when you’re alone?” A new voice catches his attention.Keith’s voice. Not exactly who Lance expected to hear right now, to say the absoluteleast. “Or is this just a new thing you’re doing?”





	in the aftermath

Post first-battle blunders in mind, Lance had deemed it necessary to get in some quality one on one time with good ol’ Red. Not that they were terrible together, not by a long shot. They can get by well enough, considering how they managed to help the team in making Lotor run with his tail between his legs, but Lance wants to be better than just _enough_.

The only sound that accompanies him to the hangar are the squeaks the soles of his shoes make against the floor. Lance enjoys the long walk without the speeders or adrenaline pumping for the call to battle, but he can’t help the way his chest aches and his stomach feels a bit too heavy as he passes by the Blue Lion hangar. It’s still an open wound, having to split up and move on. Lance knows she’s in good hands with Allura, but that doesn’t take the lingering hurt and bitterness away either. There’s an emptiness in his chest where their connection used to be— once loud and all-consuming now silent, quiet. Lance steals a glance of Blue standing tall, unmoving with dull eyes, before turning his head away and continues his walk towards Red’s hangar. 

Red seems to know what he’s planning to do before he even shows up, because as soon as he walks in, her jaw is to the floor and opened, ready for him to enter. She’s smaller than Blue, size-wise and infrastructure included, and it takes him a shorter amount of time to reach the pilot’s seat. Red is different to Blue than he’s used to, moving faster and with more sensitive controls, a different feeling brushing against the edges of his mind that calls for him to rush and jump in without a second thought. This is only the second time he’s sat here, and he can feel how the seat fits to his body, although a part of him thinks that _might_ just be his own imagination.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Lance greets easily, already leaning back in his seat and getting comfortable. There’s a low thrum he feels in the back of his mind, everything about her energy perked up and ready to go. It’s a new sense that he’s beginning to recognize from her, slowly but surely. “Nope, no flying right now. You and I are going to get some _bonding_ in. Get to know each other a little better.” He wiggles his brows. “Y’know back on Earth, we’d call this our _first date_.”

Glee lingers in the air, nearly palpable between them. It’s gotten easier being able to understand what Red tells him, even if it’s through feelings and a ghost of an image that leaves as soon as it comes. Now Lance isn’t as much of an expert as he originally thought he was, but he’d call this easy-going back and forth the first step to success, even if it may only just be a nudge in the right direction.

“I actually have an idea that you’re gonna like. Wanna hear it?” Lance isn’t expecting a direct response, but Red stands at attention. Apparently Lance got it right on the money. “Alright, loving the enthusiasm. How do you feel about pick-up lines? I tried doing a few on Black and Blue, but they didn’t really like them that much. Bet you’ll be different, huh?” 

Red gives him the signal to keep going, and that’s all he needs. “Alright, alright. Let’s not be eager now.” Red actually jerks her head forward at that, nearly knocking Lance out of the chair. The sound of her jaw slamming against the ground echoes in the hangar. “Hey, I was kidding! Don’t be so cranky.” Silence, but not for long. He glances to the side, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk. “So you got fire powers, huh? Makes sense considering you’re lighting up my heart.”

It’s like laughter dancing in the air, like how every part of your body is buzzing with the after effects, clamoring for more. A better response than nothing, but still not quite what Lance is looking for.

“You know what they say about the color red,” Lance starts, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smirk. This one’s _definitely_ going to win her over. “It’s the color of love, and I’m definitely feeling that tonight.”

Red’s amusement overflows the cockpit, and Lance can’t help but join in with an amused chuckle. Having her laughing at him wasn’t exactly the reaction he had in mind, but he definitely prefers this compared to a deafening silence. It’s easy for him to get comfortable in a conversation, breaking the ice especially, long limbs splayed out and hanging off the chair like he’s lived here all his life. He’s a people person, always has been, even if he may not be a person people care to have around. Getting people, or in this case, a semi-sentient war machine laughing and enjoying his company is one of the few things Lance can say with the utmost confidence that he’s proud of. 

“Oh _come on_ , Red,” Lance teases, the huff of laughter barely hidden under the surface. “That was a good line and you know it.”

“You always flirt with the lions when you’re alone?” A new voice catches his attention. _Keith’s voice_. Not exactly who Lance expected to hear right now, to say the absolute _least_. “Or is this just a new thing you’re doing?”

Lance makes a noise somewhere between a squeal and a squawk, body flinging into the air. He lands with a thud on the cold metal ground, a low dull ache thrums in his elbows at the collision, but he’s quickly up to face Keith and the dumb, amused smirk that’s on his face. There’s something to it that makes Lance’s belly flip— he looks almost fond, soft. That can’t be right, but he doesn’t have time to analyze it. “When did _you_ get in here?” It comes out more accusing than he intends it to be, partly because he’s getting up and Keith can’t see the expression on his face, partly because he’s a little winded and can’t seem to settle his racing pulse.

The look on Keith’s face drops, and Lance can’t tell if he’s grateful or wistful that it’s gone now. He shoves the thought aside from his mind because there’s too much going on for him to focus on anything besides what’s going on right now. “Just now,” Keith answers. “I was able to catch your last line.” 

“My last and _only_ line, thank you,” Lance lies. He’s not sure why he does it, but he doesn’t want Keith to laugh at him for this. Red brushes along the edges of his mind, sending little signals of reassurance, but Lance brushes it off. “If you’re here for Red, we’re in the middle of a good bonding sesh, but I’ll pass along the message for you if you need me to.” 

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” says Keith, in a way that means he’s not sorry at all. He crosses his arms over his chest. “But I’m not here for Red.”

“ _Sure_ you’re not, buddy,” Lance retorts sarcastically. It’s almost playful, but he still hears the defensiveness on the fringes of his tone from being caught in a some-what embarrassing situation. Luckily the effect isn’t lost on Keith, if the way he quirks his head to the side is any indicator. “Then what’re you doing here?”

  
Keith’s gaze is on Lance’s, dark and intense, and Lance can’t seem to look away. “I was looking for you actually.” 

Lance’s throat suddenly feels far too dry. “You were?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” says Keith in exasperation. Any other moment besides this one, Lance would’ve taken the opportunity to soak it all in, but he can’t seem to stop replaying Keith’s words on a loop. Like a good song you get excited listening to, even if the radio’s overplayed it a hundred times over. “But if you’re too busy…”

It’s not like him to feel this nervous— no, _jittery_ —around Keith, but this is new territory between them. But he’s curious where Keith’s going with this and blurts out, “I’m not busy!” He clears his throat, ignoring the way Keith seems to like his little race to get his attention. “Uh, what for?”

Keith pauses briefly, looking down at the ground for a moment too long to be explained away. Everything in the air gets heavier, quieter, as if every action has some sort of consequence. It’s something that’s been happening more often than not lately, a phenomena he’s began to notice after catching Keith alone too many times staring at an empty scanner on the Castle deck, watching him storm off with Lance being the first to volunteer to chase after him without being asked. He cares about him like he does Hunk and Pidge, wants to make sure he’s okay and happy, along with wanting to see him flustered or riled up from a taunt— enjoying the back-and-forth between them too much to let that part of their relationship go. Only difference between their first month and now is that he has an easier time of showing it.

Change has a funny way of happening, especially to those who weren’t even aware of it. Not like it comes as that big of a surprise to Lance. Part of him always considered Keith more than just his rival or his teammate. Friend would be right, but it’s not _just_ that now, is it? Almost, but not enough.

“To give you this,” Keith says, breaking Lance out of his fall down the rabbit hole he calls his thoughts. It takes Lance a moment too long to realize what _this_ is, or the fact that Keith’s arm is extended already offering it to him. Keith’s bayard. Everything about it calls for his unbroken attention. “It’s yours now. For however long this switch lasts for anyway, at least.” Something about how temporary Keith finds this all still reminds Lance that Keith is still just a kid, just like the rest of them. Just because he masks it better than the rest doesn’t mean he doesn’t depend on what most people would call naïve hope. 

Lance hesitates before reaching over and taking the bayard into his grasp. When he does, their fingers brush momentarily, shooting prickling heat from his fingertips to his arms and almost dropping it to the floor with a clang. If Keith had felt what he just felt, he masks it well. Lance doesn’t mean to try to take some hidden meaning or conversation through just expressions alone, but sometimes he ends up lingering on his face, more often than not lately. Dark, wild eyes that says more than his words do. Strong features, jaw, and an almost perfect nose that never quite healed right. Moments like these are ones where Lance wishes he possessed the ability to read minds. Keith’s mind specifically. 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring at Keith until the motion of Keith crossing his arms over his chest catches his gaze, and it’s just then that Lance remembers where they are, what they’re doing. It’d be embarrassing if Lance didn’t have something to turn his gaze to, like Keith’s— well, _Lance’s bayard_ now — already in the palm of his hands.

“Thanks, Keith,” Lance says, finally glancing back up to meet Keith’s gaze. The look is back on his face causing Lance’s stomach to twist in itself, and he’s unsure what to do— what to say. So he spins his bayard in his hand, holds it and wills the gun to match the image he’s painted in his mind to be in his hands, until the bayard morphs and glows bright. When Lance’s eyes settle, there it is. The sleek shape of his gun, form and perfect to his hands, with a sleek red instead of blue. “Check it out!” Lance raises the gun and doesn’t think about the implications until Keith’s eyes nearly bug out of his head, and the two of them burst out into a fit of laughter. “Whoops, my bad.”

“Looks great when you’re not aiming to kill me,” says Keith, his words tinted with the sound of a smile. When Lance looks up at him, he’s not disappointed to see the warm smile that’s on his face instead. “Red’s a good color on you.”

Sometimes Keith says these things so bluntly and without thought it makes Lance’s stomach feels fluttery, like it does right before the dip of a rollercoaster, or the dive under the water before a wave crashes against him. Equal parts exhilarating and terrifying, fully addicting. “Do you tell that to all the boys you give your bayard to?” Lance quirks a brow, the corners of his lips twitching. He can’t _not_ tease Keith for that— not when Lance knows just how easy it’d be to get under his skin and earn a reaction from him. “Or am I just that special?”

“Shut up,” Keith snaps without any heat to it. He can still hear the smile in his voice. “I meant that this—" Keith gestures between the two of them with a gloved hand, then in the general vicinity. "What I meant was that it seems like a good fit. In general.” 

Lance gives him a lopsided half-smirk, twirling the gun with his fingers and not missing the way Keith glances at his movements too long for him to be anything but a little concerned. “Glad I’m enough to fill your shoes for you while you’re busy being our new leader. _Definitely_ a better fit than I thought.”

The amusement is wiped away from Keith’s face, although Lance isn’t sure why this time. “You’re not filling my shoes,” Keith replies bluntly, his brows furrowed, the corners of his mouth downturned. He looks serious, older. Lance isn’t sure where he’s supposed to look, the dark set of his eyes, the firm line of his mouth, but it doesn’t matter because Keith is already steamrolling ahead. “Red _chose_ you for a reason.” 

“Well, _yeah_.”

“So then why did you say it like that?” Keith frowns, never minding the fact that he effectively managed to put Lance on the spot.

Lance gives a half shrug; grateful he has his bayard with him in order to give something to do with his hands, absentmindedly turning it around. “We need five people to pilot Voltron, Keith. We can’t have just one person hanging off on the side.”

“And we don’t,” Keith points out.

“ _Exactly!”_ Lance raises his arms in exasperation, which only seems to heighten the confused look on his face. He sighs, trying to find the best words to make this clear to him. “Look, you said the Red lion chose me for a reason, right? I can understand that.” The wave of sadness that washes over him seems to suck out any momentum he has right out from him. “I just feel like there’s these big shoes to fill, y’know, and I don’t know if I can actually do that.”

It’s not going to be easy living up to a king. Lance doesn’t mention the fact that falling behind Keith feels a little too familiar for comfort. There’s no point. Not when the universe is depending on them, and not when Lance actually _likes_ Keith’s company more than he lets on. Even to himself.

Keith pauses for a moment, glancing down at the floor before looking back up at Lance with an unreadable expression. “I get that.”

“How?” Lance asks on impulse. The words leave his mouth before he has a chance to think them through, but the thoughts come through eventually, and his face softens at the realization of just why Keith would understand where he’s coming from. “Oh.”

Keith isn’t looking at him anymore, his hard gaze locked on some spot on the ground. It’s a reminder that Keith didn’t ask for this, just like Lance didn’t, just like Shiro didn’t. Every time Lance catches him with that look on his face, it makes a part of him ache too.

“Maybe we do have big shoes to fill,” Keith starts, breaking the silence, finally letting his gaze find Lance’s, “But who says we have to anyway?”

Coming from anyone else, Lance would have considered that just a touch on the nose too cheesy. Having those words leave from Keith’s mouth, with the firm and fixed stare on Lance, magnetic and unyielding, the conviction in his voice leaves little room for people to consider what he says as anything other than the truth. Keith isn’t one for clichés or saying something he doesn’t mean, and it shows with the way words fly past his mouth without a second thought. There’s something admirable to that. Something that has Lance’s gaze following him whenever Keith decides to speak and urges him to retort.

Red’s presence fills his mind unexpectedly, a mess of flashes of feelings, thoughts, and senses fill his mind. All of them about Lance and Lance alone. The want that envelops him is so strong, so familiar, Lance feels as if he’s known.

_I want you too, Red._

Lance leans against the back of the paladin chair, a little breathless laugh escaping from him. He doesn’t miss the way Keith’s brows pull together in confusion, and is quick to shift the focus from Red back to Keith. “What’s so funny?” Keith asks, genuine.

“Nothing,” Lance answers. It’s something he wants to keep to himself for right now— this little moment he just had with Red. But he can’t deny that even though he connected more with Red himself, he would’ve probably taken a little longer to get here. A long time ago, Lance would’ve called them even. “You know I hate admitting this…” A small half-smile tugs at Lance’s lips against his will. He can’t say he minds. “But you might actually be right about this.” 

Keith smiles. It’s slow and deliberate in a way that only compels Lance to mirror him. “I know that, too.” He crosses his arms over his chest for the millionth time since he’s been here, looking him over with a look Lance knows to be Keith’s Teasing and Playful one. A part of Lance is beginning to grow fonder of it the more he sees it. “You trying to live up to someone else isn’t what I’m looking for.” It feels like there’s more left unsaid. Keith shrugs, as if the words are somehow stuck in his throat and he isn’t sure how to get them out. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you.” 

And _that_ steals the air right from his lungs. 

“What?” Lance barely gets out, the sound more a squeak than an actual word. It’s a miracle he even managed the single syllable at all.

It’s impossible to tell with the red glow from the cockpit, but Lance swears Keith’s cheeks are darker, only barely being able to catch a glimpse of it since Keith ducks his head too quickly for Lance to really see. Probably just a trick of the light. Still, he looks caught off-guard, whether it’s by himself or Lance’s reaction remains up in the air. “You heard me,” says Keith, firmly, despite the way that he can’t seem to meet Lance’s eyes until after he says those words. “Forget it—“

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold your horses, man,” Lance interrupts before Keith can finish, and isn’t expecting the weight in Keith’s gaze when his eyes flicker up to take all of Lance in. Everything feels intense, heavy, like this moment is a make it or break it between them. He’s sure Keith feels it, too. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Give me a second to process.” It’s the truth, but Keith snaps his gaze away, stubbornly Lance might add, again despite that. Something about it makes Lance ache. “But, Keith?”

He glances up at Lance, brow raised and eyes questioning. Doesn’t say a word. It’s fine, because Lance doesn’t exactly expect him to, and doesn't know if he'd have the same resolve for this if he had. 

“I’m not going anywhere I’m not needed,” Lance says slowly, finally. Truthful. “We’re a good team, remember?”

Keith’s fond smile makes a return, blooming on his face like the colors of the sun right before it rises just over the horizon. When Keith looks at him like this, it’s easy to get lost in. It lasts for approximately five seconds, before his eyes widen to the point they’re nearly comically _bulging_ and his brows shoot straight to the top of his head. “I _knew_ you remembered!” Tone accusing and just a tad on the side of cracking, Lance can’t help when the most shit-eating grin of his entire life takes residence. It’s just as endearing watching Keith yell about this the second time. “Why did it take you so long to admit that we actually—“ 

“ _Bonded_?” Lance finishes, desperately trying and failing to stifle the bubbling laughter just under the surface. The smirk that forms is hard to miss though, but hey, small sacrifices for a good cause are always worth it. “I actually have no idea what you’re talking about, Keith. You might need to be a _little_ more specific.” 

“You’re such an asshole,” mutters Keith, even though his tone says something much differently. Lance can’t help but smile because of it. 

“Maybe.” Lance grins and pushes himself up from leaning against the chair, stretching his back out until a few pops are felt in his back. He looks around the cockpit, and for the first time since Keith’s been here and Red’s last moment with him, realizes that his and Red’s connection is quiet now. Running his fingers through his hair, he half glances at Keith and nudges him gently in the side. “I think Red and I got enough bonding in for the night.” But that doesn’t mean Lance wants it to be over just yet. “Wanna go grab a bowl of goo with me?” 

With a huff and a fond, albeit somewhat reluctant, shake of his head, Keith merely says, “I should probably say no.”

“But?” Lance grins.

Keith gives a half smile. “But, sure. Why not?”

They head out of Red with a small smile plastered on Lance’s face, the lingering sense of being _known_ settling the waves of doubts that had been bubbling for sometime. A step in the right direction if Lance ever saw one. One he didn’t know he needed until it came right to him.

**Author's Note:**

> HEY WHADDUP WHO ELSE IS FEELING THE MUTUAL SUPPORTIVE KLANCE FROM SEASON 3! We got Lance giving Keith encouragement to take the Black Lion was so good... so of course I wanted to write a scene with Keith encouraging Lance with Red while handing him his bayard because we were robbed.... Make the content you wanna see in the world, right?
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! Kudos/Comments would be greatly appreciated ♡


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